


They're For You, Stevie

by CommunionNimrod



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, Happy Birthday Steve!, M/M, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Steve's first birthday with Bucky back, they're both very sappy and in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 18:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4273047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommunionNimrod/pseuds/CommunionNimrod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Roger's birthday is on July 4th.  He had some pretty great birthdays up until 1945, and ever since he'd thawed from the ice in 2012 they've been miserable.  This year, though, Bucky is back.  Bucky remembers who he is and they've made incredible progress.  This year, Steve can be excited about his birthday again, finally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They're For You, Stevie

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at writing Stucky. Hope I didn't completely screw it up! I just couldn't resist writing something for the 4th of July, hehe. <3

Steve Rogers was born on the 4th of July.  It was some twisted joke that the fates had him becoming Captain America a couple decades later: the parading symbol of the United States of America.  A lot of people thought it was part of a publicity stunt, fabricated to make him seem even more inherently patriotic.  Sometimes, Steve wished that was the case.  

When he was little, much smaller and sicker than he was now, his mother Sarah always told him the fireworks were for him.  He would watch with wide blue eyes from his bed, fascinated, as colors lit up in the sky.  Even when he was so sick that he should be sleeping, Sarah always let him sit up for the fireworks.  His fireworks.

Of course, it only took a few years before he knew the history of his country and knew the true purpose behind the light show every year, through books and schooling.  America celebrated its independence, not the birth of an insignificant, ill boy.  Steve didn’t love the fireworks any less, though.

When he became friends with Bucky Barnes, that’s when Steve really began to love his birthday.  That’s when Steven began to love a lot of things about his life though, in all honesty.  Bucky had been the first kid that didn’t bully him, or treat him like he was made of thin glass.  If kids hadn’t been shoving him around, they’d been scared of him because of how easily he got sick.  Sarah always put a brave face but after a while, Steve could see through it.  That’s why he’d forced himself to be tougher, to stand up against the bullies who targeted him day in and day out.  It had gotten him in a hell of a lot of trouble, but it’s also one of the things that brought Bucky along to begin with.

After the initial irritation flooding through Steve that Bucky had stepped into the alley and defended him ( _“I had ‘em on the ropes.”  “Yeah, sure looked like it.”  “Shut up, I did, you jerk.  Don’t need help from no one.”_ ), they had become thick as thieves.  When Bucky found out his birthday, he didn’t laugh or tease like other kids did.  No, in true Bucky Barnes fashion, he thought it was the coolest thing and vowed to make sure every single one of Steve’s birthdays kicked ass.

The very next birthday Steve had, Bucky did just that.  They were usually inseparable, and that day was certainly no different.  Steve had been feeling very upbeat and well - a relief since he’d been so badly sick a few days before that Sarah had him in the hospital for a night - so Bucky seized the opportunity to beg for permission to take him out somewhere after dinner.  Sarah had agreed, of course, so they eagerly cleaned their plates and ran out the door.

That year, Steve got to experience the wonders of the fireworks up close and personal at Coney Island.

It became their tradition.  Every year following, you could guarantee the two boys would be spending time at Coney Island, watching the fireworks.  They would always take a blanket with them and find a place away from the crowds that huddled up at close to the display as possible, lying there and gazing up at the night sky, talking and laughing and reacting to every colorful explosion.  A particularly breathtaking display, usually during the finale, never failed to make them both fall silent, lips parted in wonder at the spectacle.  Even when Steve was sicker, he would insist they go.  Only once did Bucky almost flat out refuse; it was the year Sarah died and Steve’s cough was so bad there were flecks of blood in his frail, shaking hand earlier and they were too poor to afford medicine and going out into the elements was certainly the worst idea.  Steve had been stubborn as always, though, with a determined look on his face and his eyes shining with frustrated, unshed tears, and Bucky’s fight had left him.

The first year they missed the fireworks was in 1943.  Bucky was overseas in the army, and Steve was being paraded around on the morale-boosting tour as Captain America, still adjusting to his new body and feeling incredibly lonely.  The frustration and exhaustion was taking a toll on his mental state, and he stubbornly hid in his tent, ignoring any invitation to join everyone and watching the fireworks through the slit in the fabric.  It wasn’t the same without Bucky at his side, he wasn’t fighting the good fight, and it all just felt empty.

The next year, there were no fireworks where they were.  Reunited, they had been through hell (mostly Bucky), and there was no colorful display they could get lost in and feel like children again.  It already felt like a lifetime ago.  However, they still grabbed a blanket from one of the tents and trudged away from the camp, finding a quiet spot under some trees to spread it out.  They stretched out on their backs and stared up at the sky, like they always did, and if they closed their eyes they could pretend the nearby gunfire were celebratory explosions in the sky instead.

That had been his last birthday before Bucky fell, and Steve crashed into the water.  The one that followed would take place in a whole new world, almost fifty years in the future instead of the few months it felt like.  Steve struggled with a lot in the beginning.  His birthday had been particularly horrible.  He was alone in a foreign world surrounded by strangers, bright lights, and technology.  The only thing that felt like home were the dog tags Nick Fury gave him that July.  The cold metal resting against his chest was the only sensation that made sense.  He spent the night shut in his new apartment, curled up on the couch with a sketchbook and music blaring enough to try and drown out the sound of fireworks and cheering around him.  He couldn’t bear to hear it.

Steve could look at his life in a series of big chunks.  Pre-serum, post-serum, and twentieth century.  Now, there was a fourth.  Now, Steve had a second chance.  Almost two years after re-entering Steve’s life as the weaponized Winter Soldier, brainwashed and controlled by Hydra, Steve had finally found Bucky again.  Or, more accurately, Bucky had found him.

**~**

_Steve felt exhausted and defeated as he slipped through the hidden entrance of his apartment in Brooklyn.  Another month of searching and still nothing.  Steve had forced himself to come home so he could help Natasha with the training of their new Avengers team, still young and new in the wake of Ultron’s devastation.  Sam was still out there, so Steve said he would allow himself a week or so before he went back out as well._

__

_Immediately after he stepped into his apartment, punching the keypad roughly and waiting for the click as it re-secured itself behind him, Steve knew he wasn’t alone.  He stiffened instantly, eyes quickly adjusting to the dark.  It only took him a moment to notice the outline of a figure sitting in a chair in his living room, silent and still.  Balling his hand up into a fist, Steve took a cautious step forward, eyes widening as light from the window shifted and brushed over the intruder.  Moments later, the voice that broke the silence confirmed he was not seeing things._

__

_“You should tighten your security,” the voice spoke, hoarse, yet dangerously smooth.  A shiver went down Steve’s spine. “Too easy to get in.”_

__

_“Bu-” he started._

__

_“My birthday, Stevie, really?” Bucky interrupted, the use of Steve’s old nickname making his breath hitch.  He let out a shaky sigh as Bucky’s head tilted to the side.  The smirk on his face was almost the signature Bucky Barnes smirk that Steve knew so well, except it was a little...emptier._

__

_“Shut up,” he mumbled as it registered exactly what Bucky was talking about.  Heat flushed his cheeks and all the tension seeped out of his body.  Bucky was **here.**  Bucky remembered._

**~**

It hadn’t been an easy span of months after Bucky returned, of course.  He might have remembered who he was but the difficulties and the brainwashing still ran deep.  Everything from nightmares to lapses where he forgot again and the Winter Soldier programming seeping back through to the man disappearing for weeks at a time when he got spooked and thought it was safer if he was in another country occurred, Steve lost a lot of sleep and worried a lot.  

Tony and Natasha were the loudest voices against Bucky’s recovery at first, but when it mattered, they both set it aside and helped when needed.  Natasha was most effective when it came to the brainwashing, even if her methods were rough and Steve found himself snapping at her quite a lot.  Tony gave them rooms in the Avengers tower when, in the beginning, it was too much for Steve to deal with on his own.  The problem had been that he was too emotionally attached.  This was his best friend, the man he had… well, had loved his entire life.  

Things got easier, though.  There were lapses and tension, even still, but Bucky seemed to have a much better handle on everything.  They were staying in Steve’s apartment again - the tower finally becoming too claustrophobic for Bucky.  Privacy became especially important for them a month ago, when… well, when what Steve had thought the impossible happened.

Today was his birthday.  Steve had almost forgotten what it felt like to be happy about his birthday.  Everything was different now, though.  He could finally celebrate his birthday again with the only person that mattered.  As he woke, a smile slid onto his face at the comforting, cold metal resting against his chest.  Turning his head, he cracked his eyes opened and gazed at the peaceful face of his impossible.

Bucky was still asleep, curled up against his side, lips parted slightly.  Steve reached out to push back the strands of hair falling across his face, letting his fingertips brush down the curve of his jaw.  Bucky’s eyes began to shift slightly behind his eyelids, stirring and taking a slow breath as he woke as well.

“Mornin’,” Bucky grunted, pressing closer to Steve’s body and wrapping his metal arm around his waist.  Steve pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Go’morning Buck,” he whispered, closing his eyes again.

Their emotions had come to a head last month, as Bucky had lashed out in frustration and confusion at the very mixed signals Steve had apparently been giving off recently.  It had been one of the worst fights in a while, drawing people near but not close enough to interrupt.  It had been messy, they were both shouting angrily, and Steve hadn’t meant to confess the feelings he’d had bottled up for over half his lifetime, but they had just… happened.

_“Because I’m in love with you and you’re my goddamn life, Bucky!”_

The words still echoed in his head, and while Steve had dreaded it at the time, he was grateful for it now.  They had frozen, staring at each other, and Steve’s feet had forced him to turn and storm out before he could really let it sink in between them.  Later that night, Bucky had found him, and they’d spoken more calmly.  It was the most life-changing conversation Steve had ever had.

“Mmm, you’re in your head again,” Bucky mumbled, drawing Steve’s attention again.  He opened his eyes, watching his best friend yawn and open his eyes, grinning sleepily as he pushed up on his elbow. “What are you thinking about?”

“You,” Steve said honestly, gazing up at him.  Bucky rolled his eyes and snorted.

“You cheese,” he teased, rolling over to lie halfway on Steve. “You already woo’ed me, you know.”

“I know,” Steve smirked, tilting his chin as Bucky leaned in to kiss him slowly.  Steve hummed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck and holding him close.  He would never get tired of kissing Bucky.  It was something he’d honestly dreamt about since he was twelve years old and the reality was so much sweeter.

The moment ended all too soon when Bucky playfully smacked Steve’s side and sat up, running his flesh hand through his hair to get it out of his face.

“Get up birthday boy,” he commanded, rolling off Steve and getting out of bed. “We’ve got a tradition to uphold.”

Steve tucked an arm behind his head, watching as Bucky turned and wandered out of their bedroom, clad only in a pair of black boxers.  He sighed, unable to keep the smile off his face.  His chest was tight with the anticipation of the day.  They really were gonna be able to spend the day like they used to, weren’t they?  Sometimes it felt too good to be true, but as Steve heard sounds of Bucky moving around the apartment, he couldn’t ignore that this was all real.  Just like old times, only… better.

It was the sounds and smells of food being made that finally coaxed Steve to get out of bed.  He yawned, wandering towards the kitchen while scratching the back of his head, watching Bucky standing in front of the stove.  With a grin, he walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around Bucky’s waist, setting his chin on his shoulder.

“Look at you, makin’ me breakfast,” he commented, turning to kiss Bucky’s neck.

“Well, it is your birthday, and don’t I always on your birthday?  Don’t go thinking this is gonna be an everyday thing, I’m not your dame.”

Steve chuckled at that.  It felt good to banter like this again, like they always did back in the 40s, before the war.  It was comforting in all the ways Steve had needed for years.  He pressed his nose into Bucky’s hair, sighing happily as Bucky continued to make the eggs currently in the pan.

“Yes, you always do on my birthday,” he commented, straightening again and reluctantly pulling away to give him room to work. “I don’t know how you managed to, sometimes.  Not when we were so broke we could hardly afford to eat at all.”

“I had my ways,” was all Bucky said.  it had been exactly what he’d said that morning, too, in 1940 when Steve had walked into their kitchen to the sight of a real breakfast laid out on their small table, hot and fresh, with Bucky on the other side of the table beaming.  It had been a particularly rough summer, following the even rougher winter they’d had before.  Steve had almost died that winter…

“You’re never gonna tell me, are ya?” Steve grinned, getting a bottle of water out of the fridge.

“Nope!” Bucky said. “Never.  So deal with it and stop asking, punk.”

“Jerk,” Steve responded, a knee-jerk reaction that had them both snorting.

“Sit down so you can eat your damn breakfast, Rogers.”

*

Steve wasn’t honestly sure how they would end up spending the day.  Bucky had said they had a tradition to uphold, but… he wasn’t sure if Coney Island was actually the best idea.  Bucky was doing better, but there were still times where large crowds and a lot of commotion got to him.  He never said anything, but Steve could tell.  The way his body went rigid and his muscles would tense, and his crystal eyes would get hard, Steve knew he was on edge.  It was moments like that when the remnants of the Winter Soldier still seeped through, though Bucky was stubborn to actually admit it out loud.  So, Steve was hesitant.

“Steve, we always went to Coney,” Bucky countered when he actually brought it up later that afternoon, after a bit more relaxing and both of them getting dressed.

“Yeah, I know, but…” Steve started, rubbing the back of his head and glancing down at the floor.  He heard Bucky sigh a bit.

“Look, you worried ‘bout me?  Because don’t be.  I can handle it for a few hours for your birthday, I don’t need kid gloves all the goddamn time-” he started to fuss.

“It’s not… just that, Buck,” Steve interrupted, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth.  He glanced up, staring at his best friend, whose arms were currently crossed. “The other reason is purely selfish, I promise.”

“Sounds more like the Steve Rogers I know,” Bucky snorted, starting to smile.  Unfolding his arms, he stepped forward and draped them on Steve’s shoulders with a soft thunk.  He raised his eyebrows playfully. “So tell me, baby, about your purely selfish reasons.”

Steve rolled his eyes, grinning and tilting his head so that their foreheads pressed together gently.  He closed his eyes, focusing on the comfortable feeling of their bodies pressing together; the warmth of Bucky’s chest and breath.

“It might be my birthday, but this is about you n me,” he whispered, keeping his eyes closed and feeling the slow rise and fall of Bucky’s chest as it pressed against his own with each breath. “I don’t… I don’t want to share this with other people.  I don’t want to be surrounded by a bunch of other people.  Strangers.  People who will recognize me, like they always do, and hover or want autographs and photos or… any of that stuff.  I just want you.”

Bucky stepped back slightly, and a metal hand was cupping Steve’s cheek.  He sighed, leaning into the cool touch, turning to press a kiss against the plates of his palm.  Bucky had grown more comfortable touching Steve casually with the metal arm, and Steve always made sure he knew that arm was loved just as much as the rest of him.

“You’ve got me, baby,” Bucky whispered, and Steve felt a soft tingle at the name again.  It was something he had begun to realize he couldn’t get enough of.  Finally, he opened his eyes, gazing lovingly over at the other man. “So was there something you had in mind?  ‘Cause we are still gonna watch the fireworks, right?”

“Of course,” Steve grinned. “I was thinking… Well, I had been trying to think where we could go.  Didn’t just wanna go up to the roof here at the apartment because it seems a bit too far away from the huge firework show.  Central Park would be just as packed as Coney, so… what do you think about the Avengers tower?  The landing platform up near the top might be a good place.”

“Hmm.  You sure Tony will leave us the fuck alone?” Bucky asked.

“With Pepper’s help and a bit of threatening, probably,” Steve shrugged.

“Okay then,” Bucky laughed, patting Steve’s side and turning. “You check with ‘em and I’ll get our stuff together.”

Steve wandered over to the kitchen table and grabbed his cell, ignoring the text he had from Natasha telling him to come out tonight, and the one from Sam saying basically the same thing, as he opened up a message thread with Pepper.

**Hey, if Buck and I come by the Avengers tower to watch fireworks could you help us ensure a bit of privacy?**

**I think I can make that happen.  Pretty sure Tony is down in the basement tinkering with a new type of firework.  He’s convinced the stuff that’s out there isn’t good enough.**

**That… a bit dangerous?  Like, fire hazard dangerous?**

**It’s a yearly thing, I’ve got emergency protocols in place by now. ;)  Come on by, you two.**

Steve shook his head, pocketing his phone and wandering to the bedroom to find his other half.  He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and watching silently as Bucky was folding up a big blanket and shoving it into a duffle bag.  He could feel his heartbeat speed up slightly just watching.  Yeah, he had it bad.  That’s all there was to it.

“Hear from Pepper?” Bucky asked without glancing back, having clearly heard him walk up.

“Yup,” Steve nodded, not moving from where he was. “Tony should be distracted by some kind of firework creation so I doubt he’ll bother us.”

“That sounds like a fire waiting to happen.”

“That’s what I said,” Steve laughed. “Pepper doesn’t seem all that worried, though.  So we’re good to go.”

“Then let’s get going,” Bucky said, walking over with the bag and waving at Steve to get moving.  When Steve didn’t move right away Bucky pushed on his shoulder, earning a good-natured eye roll as Steve finally turned and they headed out.

Traffic wasn’t too horrible, luckily, and they timed the drive just right that by the time they got to the tower and up to the landing platform, the sun was beginning to set.  They were quiet as Bucky set the bag down, Steve reaching in to pull out the blanket they had brought and start to spread it out.  It was huge and dark green, and it reminded Steve a lot of the kind of blankets they had back in the war (only much bigger and not quite as stiff).  Nostalgia clenched at his chest for a moment and he stood there, just staring down at it with a soft smile.  A moment later he felt a shoulder brush against his own, and he glanced sideways for a brief moment.

“You got this kind of blanket on purpose, didn’t you?” he whispered.

“Maybe,” Bucky responded, amusement evident in his voice.  Steve could hear the smirk he was no doubt wearing on his face. “C’mon Stevie, let’s sit down.”

Steve nodded, stepping onto the blanket and heading towards the center.  He sat down and crossed his legs, gazing out at the view before them.  The sky was a mixture of orange and pink and dark blue.  He’d always loved sunsets.  Bucky sat down next to him, keeping his own legs stretched out and resting his weight on his hands.  The wind blew softly and neither of them spoke.  It wasn’t until night had completely settled around them that the silence was broken.

“I think I always knew,” Bucky whispered, voice serious and hesitant.  Steve could tell this was going to be a bit of a heavy conversation, so he tilted his head slightly to signal he was listening, without speaking himself.  He watched as Bucky took a deep breath, the wind blowing strands of his hair.  Before Bucky could sit up straighter to brush them off his face, Steve reached over and did it, tucking them behind his ear.  The action earned an affectionate smile.

“The past 70 years, even when they forced me to forget everything, I never really forgot this day,” he began again, looking away.  Bucky always tended to have these kind of conversations without actually looking Steve in the face. “No matter where I was, if I knew the day was July 4th, there was always something… unsettling to me.  To… to the Winter Soldier.  Even when I forgot you.  I always had this lingering feeling that I had somewhere to be.  Something to do.”

“Buck,” Steve whispered, eyes widening slightly.  Bucky looked at him them, smiling a bit sadly.

“No matter what Hydra did to me, they could never erase you completely.”

Reaching over, Steve cupped Bucky’s cheek, pulling him in for a deep kiss.  Metal fingers threaded into his hair, gripping securely, and Bucky sighed against his lips.  Pressing in closer, Steve broke the kiss so he could press soft kisses along Bucky’s cheek and jawline, humming against the sharp curve.

“Steve,” Bucky whispered, huffing and tightening his grip slightly.  He earned a soft gasp when he tugged on Bucky’s earlobe and biting it briefly.

“Mm, yeah?” he muttered against Bucky’s ears, listening to the way his breathing had picked up slightly.

“The, the fireworks haven’t even started yet Steve,” Bucky said weakly.

“You sayin’ I don’t make you see fireworks?” Steve smirked, and the mood shifted just slightly.  Bucky groaned, shoving at Steve’s shoulder.

“You are the worst,” he complained.

“You love it,” Steve smirked, sitting up a bit straighter.

“Yeah, I do,” Bucky whispered quietly to himself, cheeks flushed.  

Before Steve could really take note of what Bucky had just admitted, the slightly older man spun a bit and hooked one of his legs around Steve’s waist, tugging him close as Steve let out a surprised noise and fell sideways.  Bucky’s arms were around Steve, pulling him closer until his back was pressed against Bucky’s chest.  Both of them were laughing softly, pushing and pulling and messing around with each other for a few moments.

The first few fireworks getting set off was what finally caused them both to freeze and fall silent.  They both turned their heads, glancing out as they watched pink and yellow balls trailing up into the sky, before exploding in brighter lights and sparkling.  Bucky’s arms and legs were still around Steve’s body, and he leaned forward to settle his chin against Steve’s shoulder.  Steve lifted on of his arms to settle over Bucky’s, covering his hand.  Steve’s lips were parted slightly as he gazed out at the display, looking more beautiful than he had remembered in a long time.  Bucky’s eyes were on Steve.

“These are for you, Stevie,” Bucky finally whispered after about fifteen minutes or so.  Steve rolled his eyes and chuckled.

“Nah, Buck.  Come on, I’ve known that wasn’t true since I was, like, six,” he said softly, the memories of both Bucky and his mother Sarah always telling him that.

“They _are_ for you, you star-spangled dork,” Bucky insisted, and Steve snorted at the nickname. “Just deal with it.”

“Jerk,” Steve teased.

“Punk,” Bucky shot back, pressing a kiss right below Steve’s ear.  

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Steve turned his head so he could properly kiss Bucky again.  He twisted his waist slightly to face Bucky more without dislodging the position they were in, resting a hand against the back of Bucky’s head and rubbing into his hair slowly.  Bucky sighed and deepened the kiss, causing Steve to smile against his lips.  Bucky’s weakness for having his hair played with was a pleasant discovery for both of them, and Steve never missed a chance to do just that.

Before long their kisses were getting rougher and a bit more desperate, their breaths getting heavier as they grabbed at each other.  The wind continued to blow and the explosion of fireworks were happening around them, but they were entirely wrapped up in each other.

“Steve,” Bucky finally said against his lips, sneaking in between kisses.  Steve hummed curiously, but continued to kiss roughly and tug at Bucky’s lips, earning him a soft groan. “We’ll.  We’ll miss.  The finale.  Steve.”

“Fuck the finale,” Steve growled. “I want you Buck.”

“Christ, Steve,” Bucky gasped, grabbing onto his shoulder. “C’mon babe.”

Finally, Steve broke the kiss and leaned back a bit.  Fireworks lit up their faces; their pink cheeks, red lips, and dark pupils.  Steve cupped Bucky’s cheek again, leaning in and pressing their foreheads together.  Both of them were more than a bit worked up, and they were quiet as they gathered themselves.  Then, Bucky was rubbing his nose against the side of Steve’s,, pushing his head back so they could both glance back up at the sky.

“While I want nothing more than to shove you down on this blanket it and fuck you until you’re seeing even more fireworks,” Bucky growled deeply, earning a groan and shiver from Steve. “Not yet.”

“ _Jesus,_ Buck, how do you expect me to be chill when you say shit like that?”

“Because, Steve Rogers, control is a good thing,” Bucky smirked playfully. “I’ll make it up to you later tonight.  After all, it is your birthday.”

Steve leaned back against Bucky, closing his eyes and breathing deeply as he got himself under control again.  Bucky was doing very much the same, and finally they both opened their eyes again to gaze up right as everything lit up around them.  Explosion after explosion, every color of the rainbow lighting up around them.  It was breathtaking.  They gazed up in wonder, and for the briefest of moments it felt like they were back in the 1930s.

Except now, they were so much more than best friends.  Now, neither of them were hiding.  

It was definitely the best birthday Steve’d ever had.

 


End file.
